


One Night Only

by Springisintheair



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Friendship, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, Love, M/M, Multi, One Night Stands, Party, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springisintheair/pseuds/Springisintheair
Summary: "There’s something about the way he ruffles the sheets when he moves in his sleep that makes it different. Like time is frozen in a way it usually isn’t. This time might not be different, but it sure feels different. Courfeyrac almost wishes it was."Combeferre and Courfeyrac meet at a party. It's just a hook up but afterwards neither of them seem to be able to let the other go.





	1. One

There’s something about the way he ruffles the sheets when he moves in his sleep that makes it different. Like time is frozen in a way it usually isn’t. This time might not be different, but it sure  _ feels _ different. Courfeyrac almost wishes it was.

 

His eyelids flutter open after a while. The pupils in his deep grey eyes adjusting to the light and it fascinates Courfeyrac.

“Hey…” The guy mumbles after a yawn. 

Courfeyrac usually remembers the names of the people he’s with. With the exception of really drunk encounters, and the times they’re called something as basic as Alexandre or Nicolas, and even though this one probably should count as a pretty lost one Courfeyrac is certain he’ll remember his name. Combeferre it was. Combeferre, like the wind traveling through the crowns of the highest of trees. The ones by the waters. Free and steady.

“Slept well?” Combeferre continues and moves slightly under the duvet. He lifts one of his hands from under the white sheet and proceeds to move the wild curls of Courfeyrac’s hair out of his face. 

“Very” Courfeyrac answers. Combeferre gives a weak smile and Courfeyrac tries to focus on the room around him, rather than Combeferre starting to gently run his fingers through his hair. 

“The party yesterday was cool” Combeferre mumbles after a while.  _ Yes it was _ , Courfeyrac thinks, even though thinking back on it now everything really just seems like a blur, but if he tries he can recall an awesome hell of a party in the back of his mind.

“Oh yeah?” Courfeyrac replies. 

“Yeah. Or, you didn’t like it?” The concerned look on Combeferre’s face makes Courfeyrac let out a laugh. He reaches out to stroke the hair at the back of his head to get rid of his worriedness. Somehow his hand falls to a rest just at the nape of his neck.

“Of course I did. It was a blast. It’s just, I didn’t think you’d be one of those people who go to parties on a friday evening, or am I wrong?”

“I...I’m not sure really…” Combeferre starts. “Usually not I guess. I usually have a lot of studying to do, in fact I still have, and I’m kind of active in politics and animals and ancient Egypt really fascinates me, so...” he trails of because Courfeyrac has started to rub small circles on his skin in the space just between his ear and his jaw. They both fall silent. Somehow fascinated or just relaxed by the soothing feeling this gives them.

“You were pretty amazing last night” Courfeyrac says after a few moments of silence. He usually doesn't say things like that. Usually the sentiments in the moment speak for themselves, but this time he feels like he has to let Combeferre know. For real and not just through unspoken truths in the dark. When Combeferre doesn't answer Courfeyrac can feel himself inch closer.

“I really enjoyed it…” And then he proceeds to do the thing you should  _ not _ do after something as simple and _ ‘no strings attached _ ’ as a one night stand. He kisses him. Right on the lips. Hand still at the back of his neck, distance  _ ‘too short _ ’. It's almost to easy, and when he pulls back he can't help but look away, up at the ceiling.  _ Damn it _ he thinks.  _ Damn _ . 

Sure, Courfeyrac may be a bit of a rule breaker but not in these contexts. He wonders if he should bring that up or if it will only make his mistake even worse.

“I should probably get going” Combeferre says after a while. If Courfeyrac didn't know better he would almost think there was the trace of melancholy under the determination in his voice. Keeping his eyes fixed on the greyish ceiling Courfeyrac can hear the sheets ruffle as Combeferre gets out of the bed. He hears him walk around the bed collecting his clothes and getting dressed. Courfeyrac sits up in the bed, resting on his elbows, just as Combeferre finishes buttoning the last button of his shirt. Courfeyrac studies him as he picks up his glasses from where they were put on Courfeyrac’s studying desk the evening before. He puts them on with a swift motion before he grabs his bag and swings it over his shoulder. Turning to face Courfeyrac, who’s now sitting up with his back resting against the wall, he gives a weak smile.

“Bye then I guess” Combeferre says, and something turns in Courfeyrac’s stomach as he does, because that’s a weird way of saying goodbye, and Courfeyrac kind of wants to think that it means something, which it sure doesn’t. Right before Combeferre’s hand reaches the door handle of Courfeyrac’s room Courfeyrac can’t stop himself from asking.

“Do you usually do this? Or was this the first time?”  _ Why?  _ he immediately thinks after his question has left the air dry and empty, tense. Combeferre looks confused, a little shocked, and Courfeyrac once again questions his decision to ask that. Why even? To find out why everything is feeling weird and different? To understand if Combeferre’s familiar with the rules of these encounters and then if he found his behaviour this morning to be strange? If his rule breaking mattered? Did it?

“Um...No I guess” Combeferre replies after a little too long. “It was...nice meeting you Courfeyrac” he finishes and pushes the door handle down. 

 

There’s something about the way he exits the room, like he’s soon to come back, that makes it different. Like time wants to go backwards. Back to when he was still there. That doesn’t happen, and Courfeyrac tries his best to pretend it didn’t.


	2. Two

The wind outside is cold and hits against him hard when he opens the door to the residential house and steps out into the street. Sounds from people and traffic are blurring into a noise that feels unfamiliar to his ears. Such a contrast to the warm bed and the silence inside. It’s all like the world has gone harsher since the last time he set foot outside. Combeferre pulls his blue scarf tighter around his neck, thankful he didn’t forget it in the flat because he doesn’t know if he would have dared to go back up if he had. He stands outside the building for a while, looking around at the busy street and wondering why it feels more chaotic than usual. Letting it go he instead reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. On the screen he sees the notification of three new messages from Enjolras.

8:32 _“You free today right?”_

9:07 _“Meet me at the café as we discussed? 10.30?”_

9:45 _“I’m here now”_

Right, Combeferre thinks. He promised to meet Enjolras at the Musain today to study, as a compensation for giving in to Grantaire’s need for company to the party, but also because he really likes spending time alone with Enjolras. It reminds him of when they were really young and only had each other. Throwing a glance at his wrist watch, he realizes he’ll have to hurry up since it’s almost 10:15. Of course his plan was to sleep at home last night but the Café can’t be too far away, if he knows where in town he is right now. He thinks he does, and then it should be about a 15 minute walk there.

 _“Yes, I’m there at 30”_ he writes to Enjolras before putting down the phone in the pocket of his coat. As he starts walking down the street he begins to think about his last 24 hours. It had started friday evening at about eight o’clock when Grantaire, Enjolras’ boyfriend, realized he wouldn’t convince Enjolras to go to the party he’d heard of at a student flat, and somehow persuaded Combeferre to join him instead. The party had been crowded and pretty much a chaos, even though usually most parties are. For starters, the host, Marius, had been nowhere to be found. Also, the door to the flat had been wide opened the whole time, which had made Combeferre seriously concerned for the neighbours. A few hours into the partying Combeferre had found himself face to face with a dark haired guy with a smile as bright as the sun, offering him a drink. They’d talked, and Combeferre thinks he can remember the guy trying to flirt with him also recalling his answer being about something as stupid as the biology of moths. In the heat of the party the guy had disappeared, only to return later on, making conversation and still smiling like an idiot. One thing had led to another and they'd found themselves behind the locked door of Courfeyrac’s darkly lit room, since he’d turned out to be Marius’ flatmate. The rest is just fragments. Combeferre’s hands running through Courfeyrac’s curls, Courfeyrac’s breath against his cheek, his soft voice in his ear.

Combeferre has to stop and shake his head. The feeling thinking about this gives him is strange. Courfeyrac was right, Combeferre is not a party goer and certainly not one to end up sleeping with strangers. Except, yesterday he was, and that makes him feel very uncertain. He doesn't regret it though. In the moment everything felt right. Courfeyrac was sweet and underneath all his party excitement Combeferre found a caring and soft side he realized Courfeyrac hadn’t fully displayed among the crowd of people. Combeferre isn't sure that's something he shows everyone and he can't help but feel a little privileged to have been trusted with it. Combeferre shakes his head again. What is he doing anyways? He doesn’t know Courfeyrac. He spent barely five waking hours with him and he’s pretty sure they were both a little drunk at least two of them. No he just has to let it go and keep going. On with life and literally, because just standing still in the street for much longer will definitely make him late to the café.

He picks up his pace, walks faster as if to make himself get out of his own head and start to see what’s before him in this very moment. Cars drive past on the road to his left. The street which he’s walking down is fairly empty, but also it’s quite early on a saturday morning. It’s only now that Combeferre notices that the sky is in fact cloud free and bright blue. The sun peeks out from behind the tallest houses and the wind, still cold, pushes in from north west. After having left the neighbourhood and walked down a long road into the less modern parts of town he makes a left turn to the other side of the road and into a smaller alley. The alleyway is narrower than the street he walked down before and paved with cobblestones instead of asphalt. Walking over them makes Combeferre feel like he’s walked right into the 19th century.

The café lies just a few turns away and he soon pushes the café door open, his wrist watch showing 10.30 sharp. Enjolras sits by their usual table at the back of the upstairs room of the café, buried in books and papers, sipping quietly from his shot of black coffee. Combeferre walks up to him.

“Morning Enjolras” he greets. Enjolras lifts his head from the notebook he’s reading from and smiles when he sees Combeferre approaching.

“Morning” Enjolras echoes and puts down the pencil he’s holding ready to write things down on another notebook.

“Here you go” Enjolras says as he pushes his books to the side to make room for Combeferre and pushes a mug of café creme towards him.

“Ah, thank you” Combeferre sighs contently as he sits down on the chair next to Enjolras and reaches for his coffee. The upstairs of the café is almost empty, leaving them almost alone at the back. The windows are big and give a good view over the small street outside. Yellow squares of sunlight have appeared on the floor and a few rays reach the back, covering the table in sunlight. Combeferre takes his bag of his shoulder and takes out his biology book and a notebook. Yes, he brought them to the party, in case he’d get bored, because he seriously thought he’d only be there to help a drunk Grantaire home in the middle of the night. That wasn’t the case though and the turn of events still confuse him.

“How was the party?” Enjolras asks just as Combeferre has pulled himself out of his thoughts and opened his book. He gives a quiet sigh. What should he tell him?

“It was alright” he hears himself say. “Actually not as bad as I’d expected. Some really nice people were there, so there was opportunity for great conversation”. This earns Combeferre an interested look from Enjolras.

“Anyone I know of?” he asks.

“No I don’t believe so” Combeferre replies. Given that Enjolras barely ever attends parties it is highly improbable that he should know anyone, even if there was politics involved at one point. Enjolras gives a small nod at this.

“Glad you had fun. I know Grantaire did, but I’m happy you didn’t feel too out of place.” Enjolras continues.

“I had my homework with me so I would’ve coped anyways” Combeferre jokes, even though it wasn’t really a joke. “Although, I think partying isn’t really my thing. It was more of a one time thing. I’ve tried it now though.”

“Experience is always good” Enjolras agrees. As he nods to himself he gives a glance down at his school books. “Um...Can you help me with this one?” he continues and points at a paragraph in his maths book. “I don’t understand why I can’t use inscribed angles to find _a_ and count the sum of _a_ , _b_ , and _c_ ”. Combeferre pulls the book closer and looks at the math task. After a while he has to give up because something makes him unable to keep his focus on the maths. He has to agree with Enjolras. He doesn’t understand why things don’t add up as they should. With the maths, sure, but well, mostly inside his head.


	3. Three

Not only did it feel different when he was there, Courfeyrac thinks, but it feels different even after he’s left.

He gets out of bed at 10.30. Walks out into the flat where empty beer cans and half finished wine glasses lie around everywhere on tables and on the floor. Marius isn't back yet and Courfeyrac collects a few cans on his way to the kitchen where he drops them in the trash before taking out a frying pan from the kitchen cupboard. He fries some sausages and takes out some leftover pasta from the fridge to have for brunch. As he sits down at the kitchen table he puts on some music on his phone to try to get the mood back up. Even if he’s alone he feels like there’s a big tension in the air and he doesn’t like the feeling of it.

He's stuck with a numb feeling in his body for the rest of the morning. It’s something that doesn't go away even after Jehan’s called him at half past four in the afternoon, and asked if he wants to meet him and some friends in the park, something that should make things feel like normal, but doesn’t. Anyways, Courfeyrac agrees and he is soon on his way with the bus to the the Tuileries garden. It’s a park they often hang out in, he and his friends, and now when summer is approaching he's certain they'll be spending time there more frequently. He jumps of the bus after five stops and walks the few hundred meters into the garden. The sun has begun to set in the sky and it is casting a wonderful light over the grass as he makes his way over to his friends, who are sitting in the grass on two blankets under a big tree.

“Afternoon Courfeyrac!” Bahorel shouts, as he is the first to see him approach them. They are sitting in a small circle on the blankets and Courfeyrac sits down between Bahorel and Joly. Jehan is sitting opposite him while Bossuet is lying with his head in Joly’s lap and Musichetta is sitting with her back resting against the trunk of the tree. They were all at yesterday’s party except Jehan, who didn’t feel like going, and they start to discuss it lightly, filling him in on everything that happened.

“Yeah, and I think Courfeyrac met some guy!” Bahorel tells Jehan, as they’ve just discussed the fact that so many people came to the party. They all know ‘ _Met_ ’ probably means ‘ _hooked_ _up_ _with_ ’, but Bahorel knows he doesn’t have the right to declare such things and he leaves it open for Courfeyrac to confirm if he wants to. Jehan looks at Courfeyrac with a playful smile and raises an eyebrow at him. Courfeyrac and Jehan had first met at a party about three years ago. It had just been a small hook up, but they’d liked each other and had tried dating for about three months, before Jehan had figured out more about his sexuality and they’d both realized that they in fact just really liked each other as friends. In the end they’d agreed that it had all just been some kind of experimenting for them both, but that it had been good for them, and they had happily agreed on just being friends. Now Courfeyrac has to roll his eyes at the look Jehan gives him.

“I might have done that” he confesses. Deep inside he really doesn’t want to talk about it right now. First of all he wouldn’t call Combeferre ‘ _some guy_ ’ and second he doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to say about it. Usually he’d admit it was indeed a hook up, because his friends will smile and laugh a little at him in the most well meant way, then he’d continue saying something like, ‘But I didn’t even get his number and it was _just_ a hookup’. But Courfeyrac doesn’t want to say that, because he knows it will not be the truth. Somehow he doesn’t want it to be the truth. He can’t tell his friends that though, so instead he decides to pretend.

“But it was just a one time thing, you know, nothing that led anywhere” he says and shrugs. He knows it’s not true. He knows it, he knows it, but he really doesn’t think admitting it to anyone is a bright idea. He's not even sure if he's fully admitted it to himself. He knows it was technically just a hookup, but he also knows there was something else there. There were sparks. He’s sure of it, and suddenly he realizes why he’s been so numb the entire day. It’s because he’s cold. Cold because the sparks that warmed him last night are gone. He's gone.

“It may have been just that, but you have a great taste in people anyways” Bahorel says and ruffles Courfeyrac’s hair playfully.

“Yeah, he was definitely a socialist!” Bossuet declares. This makes the whole group burst out in laughter. Even though they weren’t engaged in the conversation they sure heard fragments of Combeferre’s passionate explanation on why Condorcet was crucial for the early feminism, and why social class only ever will favour the rich.

“You two and Enjolras could have led us to the barricades, like they did back in the days” Bossuet continues. There is another hum amongst the group, something that might be laughter, but maybe not. Courfeyrac laughs a little too but he’s finally overcome with how cold the wind feels and how empty he feels inside. He knows he's not supposed to feel like this, but when he can't let it go he eventually excuses himself and starts walking back to his apartment, not noticing the slightly strange looks the others give him as he leaves.

Courfeyrac takes a walk home and when he gets back to the apartement he feels like his head is a lot less heavy. Marius is back now and Courfeyrac proceeds to ask him about his past 24 hours, finding it a great distraction from his own. They sit down on the couch in the living room, with a cup of tea each and a few cookies from the cupboard. Marius went to Cosette, his girlfriend for a year now, to get away from the party, even though it was his idea in the first place. He tells Courfeyrac about their _“lovely walk along the Seine_ ”, the theatre they went to at eight and the evening they spent curled up on Cosette’s couch in front of a documentary about animal life in the rainforest. Courfeyrac gets a little distracted when maris starts talking about night life in the rainforest, his thoughts drifting away to something Combeferre said about moths in fact not being attracted to light as we may think, but actually just using it for navigation.

“And then Cosette's father came home and we all sat in the living room and discussed life and drank tea” Marius’ content tone pulls Courfeyrac back to reality and he gives a confused nod and smile.

“Marius you seem to have had an amazing time” he says as he feels like he's back on track again. Marius gives a big smile.

“Yes, yes I did” He takes a few sips from his cup of tea. “How was the party?”

Courfeyrac certainly knew the question would be inevitable, and he's happy he prepared himself to answer it. He doesn't mention Combeferre, and instead makes his answer short and simple.

“It was really great! You shouldn't have bailed”

“That's great” Marius says. “Though me and Cosette really had a good time. It’s more personal when you do stuff only the two of you” he continues.

“Cossette could have joined too” Courfeyrac hears himself argue. He didn't mean to start a small argument on which is best, partying or not, he only wanted to make it seem like a normal party. Marius doesn't seem convinced though and neither is Courfeyrac. A walk along the Seine is so much  more personal than having a drink, trying to pick people up to the soundtrack of hammering electronic drums. Courfeyrac can't deny that some part of him really would have wanted that too. Walking together getting to know one another outside of the small space of a party. Out in the real life.

They continue conversing until Marius is yawning in between every other thing he says and Courfeyrac can feel his eyelids becoming heavy. They say good night and Courfeyrac takes a quick shower before he crawls into bed. It feels surreal that not 14 hours ago he wasn't alone under the sheets.

Even though he's really tired Courfeyrac can't seem to fall asleep. As he lies awake, alone and somewhat cold in the darkness, he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like if he’d asked Combeferre to stay. Would they have got to know each other better, like Marius and Cosette? Would there have been something more for them, or would it have ended? Courfeyrac knows they’d had things in common to talk about before the drinks made their conversations less connected and filled with rubbish. He can recall their conversation on taxes, feminism and the current political landscape. He can’t help but wonder what would have happened if they’d continued meeting, and he goes back in his head to what what his friends said in the park. Introducing Combeferre to Enjolras is indeed a very interesting scenario…

At half past one Courfeyrac has to stop himself in his messy train of thoughts. He's not supposed to meet Combeferre again nor think of him like this.

 _“It was a one timer_ ” he whispers to himself in the empty space of the room, hoping that voicing it will make his stupid brain get it.

_“It wasn't destined to be any more”,_

and Courfeyrac tries his best to believe it.


End file.
